


At Arm’s Length

by mycitruspocket



Series: Safekeeping [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biting, Community: inceptiversary, M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/pseuds/mycitruspocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of three drabbles written for Inception Bingo. Because one Bingo line was just not enough...<br/>Bingo prompt: Biting</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Arm’s Length

Arthur kicks the hotel room door closed with his foot and pushes Eames against the wall with more force than he’d intended. But the short sleeves of his stupid flamingo patterned shirt hug his biceps so tightly, Arthur has to get his mouth on it this second or he’ll go crazy.

He licks at the ink peeking out from under it, nips at the flexing muscle before biting down where it stretches the fabric. Eames groans, tightens his arms around his waist which makes his biceps quiver under Arthur’s lips, making him bite it again and again.

“Arthur, fuck! Stop," Eames curses between desperate moans and throws his head back against the wall instead of trying to make Arthur stop. “Please, slow down,” he pants.

But Arthur can’t. He absolutely can’t slow down, not with Eames always leaving and not staying. It’s worse since they started fucking. He tells himself he can cope with their quick and dirty encounters just fine, but slowing down would mean more time to think about what happens afterwards so he has to keep going, can’t stop for even a second.

“Can’t,” he chokes out and keeps nipping the warm, soft flesh. He enjoys leaving marks on Eames’ skin that will be visible even after Eames leaves. Marks that will perhaps make him think about Arthur. Maybe even miss him.

Eames’ hand is in his hair now, he’s trying to pull him away from his arm and towards his mouth, but kissing Eames is dangerous because it’s too distracting, slows his mind down. Eames’ kisses are so deep, so loving, they make him forget that Eames is not his to keep, doesn’t want to be kept by anyone.

So Arthur grinds his hips hard against Eames’ and it distracts him enough that his hand falls away and Arthur can move his mouth to his nipple. Arthur laps at it through the shirt before sucking on it, then rolls the hard nub between his teeth, putting more and more pressure on it.

Eames moans shamelessly and ruts against Arthur’s thigh. Arthur lets him for a little while, but then pins his hips against the wall, simultaneously biting down harder. Eames’ body is shivering and Arthur relishes moments like this, where he can take advantage of what little power he has over Eames.

Arthur repeats his ministration on the other nipple, but keeps pinching the first one with his fingers. The noises Eames makes are breathy and incoherent now and Arthur sinks down to his knees, has Eames’ fly open a second later and palms him through his boxers. He’s just as hard himself, opens his own trousers after pushing Eames’ boxers down his thighs and starts stroking himself as he swallows down Eames’ cock.

“Fuck,” Eames shouts, banging a fist against the wall before gripping Arthur’s shoulder, pushing him away. “Arthur, please! Look at me.”

Arthur sighs, looks down at the floor because he knows looking at Eames is a mistake, but then can’t resist and does it anyway. He swallows hard at the sight of him. Eames is flushed and dishevelled, he looks absolutely wrecked.

“Darling, let’s move things to the sofa, at least, and let me touch you in return.”

“Stay, for once, and you can do anything you want to me in the morning.”

Eames doesn’t answer, doesn’t nod, and there is uncertainty and fear in his eyes before he closes them and lets his head fall back against the wall with a thud. But some of the tension leaves his body and he sighs, his breathing calms down.

Arthur understands, he always does, never wants to make Eames feel caged but he can’t give in completely for his own sake. So he leans in again, kisses Eames’ belly tenderly, licks along the crease of his thigh and nips at the soft skin there carefully without leaving marks. Eames whimpers, a sound somehow filled with more pain than the moans when Arthur had actually bitten into his flesh.

Arthur takes him into his mouth again, slower than before, and lets his tongue play with the tip of Eames' cock.

Eames’ hand in his hair is gentle now, caressing, and his moans are deeper, not as rough as before.

It’s too sweet like this, too slow, and Arthur can’t enjoy it because he already thinks of how it’s going to feel to wake up alone. He’s never been a cuddler, but it would be nice to snuggle up to Eames, he thinks, and wonders if he’ll ever find out just how nice.

He brings himself off while he sucks Eames through his aftershocks and they end up catching their breath on the floor, side by side, with their backs against the wall and their shoulders touching. They don’t speak, don’t even look at each other, but before Eames leaves, he hugs him close against his side. His hand is in Arthur’s hair again, he presses his head against his lips and kisses his temple, then nuzzles his nose behind Arthur’s ear and breathes in deep.

Arthur closes his eyes when Eames stands, it’s easier when he doesn’t see him leave, but the sound of the door closing behind him still hurts.

*

Arthur wakes to a warm summer breeze tickling his face, the double-winged door to the balcony is open and sunlight floods the room. There are flowers on the table outside, and when Arthur walks closer he also finds a cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant waiting for him.

His hand falls on the back of the chair where the blue and pink flamingo shirt flutters slightly in the breeze, one sleeve is torn at the seam. He puts it on and eats breakfast in the sun with the laptop open in his lap. Finding out where Eames is heading is easy, finding the courage to follow him not so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Shirt inspiration [here](http://my-citrus-pocket.tumblr.com/post/147159502173/tomhardydotorg-who-doesnt-love-or-want-an) and [here.](http://my-citrus-pocket.tumblr.com/post/142949661168/tomhardydotorg-everybody-needs-flamminggas-xxx)


End file.
